I saw her
for the
first time,
in the
railway station
of a
cold and misty
hill station,
when it
was raining.
she was wearing
a lab coat,
a stethoscope
around her neck,
and a smile
that warmed
my heart.
the scent
of
the flowers
she wore
in her hair,
wafted through
the pouring rain,
and
reached me,
while she
waited for
her train,
the sizzle
of hot bajjis
frying in oil
and
the sound
of raindrops
falling on
the metal roof
of the tea stall
I stood under,
while taking
sips of my
piping hot
cutting chai,
danced in my ears,
like a peacock
during
the first shower
of monsoon.
she turned
and
looked at me,
for a fleeting
moment
her eyes
smiled at me,
all the
butterflies
in my
stomach
began to
flap
their wings,
I jump
with joy
and do a
fist pump
under
the pouring rain,
paying no heed
to the
people staring
or to
the wetness
of my clothes.
locks of my
dark hair
cling together
as the
falling raindrops
form beads
at their tip.
and then she
disappeared,
like a fleeting
monsoon shower,
like a
passing cloud
that
temporarily
graced me
with
cool shade
on a
scorching day.
the flurry of
unrequited
longing
that raged
within me,
rivaled
the swirling
tempest
outside.
the cold wind
blew against
my
damp clothes,
sending shivers
down my spine,
I took
the last sip
of my
lukewarm
cutting chai,
and ordered
another,
my mind lost
in wistful
reveries,
her pleasant
countenance
forever etched
in
my memories.
YOU ARE READING
The Adventures We Never Had
PoetryLadies, gentleman and others, I coyly present to you my collection of poignant poems that sometimes fail to be even that. These poems will be unlike any other poems you've had the pleasure of reading, but then again, that can be said of every other...
